Keeping Life and Soul Together
by Adair Coffin
Summary: Eames POV- missing hospital scene from Untethered.


Keeping Life and Soul Together

Summary: Eames POV- Untethered missing scene. Yes, another one.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters- yeah, as if I'm in fanfic for the money...

I am the luckiest woman in the world. Oh, yes, I am.

My partner, Robert O. Goren, is lying here in a hospital bed. He's delirious. He's been mumbling for the past two hours. He has yet to come back to full consciousness. He'd better do it soon. When his nurse comes in, she glances at me. I am sitting in defensive position, legs crossed, arms crossed, staring at the bed.

"Ma'am", she says finally, "maybe you should try and get some rest, y'know, come back in the morning?"

I don't take my eyes off the patient. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Eames…Eames…"

Great. Now the nurse is looking at me with curiosity as my partner is moaning my name- my last name. I can see out of the corner of my eye that she is looing from him to me with that same look I have seen a number of times in the past few years. I finally look up at her. She retreats.

Don't, I tell myself. Don't even go there. It's not her fault she assumes we're fucking. That seems to be the most popular betting pool in the entire NYPD. Is the good, prim, by the book Detective schtupping her crazy, authority hating, spooky partner? Tune in next week to find out.

He's back to moaning again. This time he's bubbling, 'I'm sorry." Great. Good time for remorse, Bobby. It's a little late for that. We're in big trouble here, so I wish you'd wake up and help me figure out how to get us out of it.

That's why I'm sitting here. I want to be the first person he looks at when he comes to for real. Not Ross, not the Chief of Detectives. Me. He had better wake up and know exactly what to do. Although I'm sure he didn't plan that far.

It's amazing how quickly I can go from concern to severe irritation. Six hours ago I was ready to come across the desk at that warden. And when she finally realized that we weren't leaving without Goren, and relented, I went down that ward like gangbusters, pushing CO's out of the way, glaring at inmates as they howled at the sight of a woman, banging on the doors of their cells. I didn't care. My first thought- my only thought- was getting him out of there, alive and still reasonably sane. I wasn't even sure if he was alive when I got to the cell where they were holding him. And there was the moment- the one everyone was waiting for. I fell to my knees and touched his face, and held onto his shoulders and whispered that we were leaving, and he didn't have to worry anymore, just listen to me, that it was over, that I was there to rescue him, and too bad if he didn't like it.

Ross- our poor captain. He followed me down, and came across me in my moment of weakness. He cleared his throat, and I turned to him.

"Is there a bus coming? We need one, ASAP."

"Yes", he said. "Eames, we need to go and wait."

"I'm not leaving him." I got off the floor and stood between Goren and Ross, three CO's, and the warden, wondering if I could take them all on. In that moment, I was certain I could.

This time he's gone too far, and while he left me the one link he could – his cell phone- it wasn't enough for me to hold on to and he fell, hard and quick. Standing in that cell, I knew the balance had been tipped far beyond anything I had imagined in my scope. I am getting very, very tired of trying to mend, trying to bridge gaps, to keep it 'together' for him, for our jobs, for everything.

Three hours go by, in the silence of the hospital room, he and I, sitting and lying here. _Wake up_, I will him. _I've got a few things to say to you!_

But he doesn't do anything. Not even a groan, just his even breathing. I suddenly wonder how long it's been since he's actually slept. Not dozed off, not napped, not had a nightmare. Just good, old fashioned sleep. And then, just as I realize I want him to stay asleep, just for a little while, the door starts to open, and I see Ross, and behind him the Chief of D's. I stand up and cross the distance between them and the bed, backing them up into the hallway, and shut the door behind me. The Chief is eyeing me suspiciously. He's been doing that a lot lately, in our limited contact.

"He's sleeping", I say.

Ross motions to the Chief. "Eames, we only came to see how he is-."

"He's sleeping", I repeat. "And he shouldn't be disturbed. I think you should come back tomorrow."

The Chief looks from me to Ross, and I can hear his thoughts. He thinks I'm as nuts as my partner, and he's remembering my father, and he's thinking what a waste it is that I should find myself in this situation.

Ross says that perhaps I should think about getting some rest myself, therefore suggesting to the Chief that my odd behavior can be explained away by exhaustion.

"I'll stay here."

"Detective Eames", the Chief says, "You're not in an enviable position here."

I hate his tone, it's so disapproving, so patronizing. I suppress the violent thought I have. I am remembering how he told Theresa Quinn that Goren was a whack job.

Prick.

"No, I suppose not", I answer, staring him down. "I wouldn't wish anyone to be in my shoes now sir."

_But you really wouldn't want to be in Detective Goren's shoes right now either_, I think. _Not when I get through with him_.

I turn on my heel and reenter the room. If the Chief, or Ross, thnks they're getting the first crack at him, they've got another thing coming. I lean against the closed door for a moment, and look over at my partner. God, when did I notice he had turned gray? When did I notice that he was so much taller than I was? Why did I keep pushing when he wouldn't le me in?

No one wants to be shut out… Peter Lyons, the sign language interpreter. He had said that to me months ago. No, no one does, I had thought to myself, making the immediate comparisons between my own life and what he was trying to say. Peter is long gone. And I am here. Still here, in a hospital with my partner who broke into a psychiatric facility on purpose, and got roughed up, drugged, mistreated, and went off the deep end in record time.

Seriously, does anyone else's partner do this? I want to know.

I take the chair next to the bed, and pull it up close. I put two hands on his arm. He doesn't move.

I don't remember falling asleep, but when I wake up, I am startled at the sound of someone saying my name.

"Alex."

Great, he's mumbling again.

But I look up, and he's looking at me. I sit up and then stand, pushing the chair away.

"I'm not even going to tell you how good it is to see you-."

"Shut up", I cry. "Just shut up- do you even know… do you know at all what's happened? What you've done???"

His face registers mild surprise, and maybe some fear. Good, good for me. Yeah, Bobby, scared is good. You can put on your devil may care attitude later- you'll need it later. Right now you need to care.

And then I can't help myself. Anger flies from me, every last thing I was going to say to him disappears, and all I have left is exhaustion, and fear.

I throw my arms around his neck and cry.

"Don't worry, I sob into his shoulder. "It's going to be ok. We'll figure out something. There's got to be something."

I think I'm saying it to myself, but he's allowed to hear it too. I feel his arms come around me. He's got a strong grip. I rarely feel it, so I tend to forget that, and it catches me off guard.

"I am really, really glad to see you", he says again.

The End.

Please R and R. I'm always keen on constructive criticism and praise.


End file.
